(I sat down to write, and discovered that I’ve said before what I want to say. I originally posted the below on Christmas Eve 2007.)
John 1:1-14 (NIV):
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.
There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.
He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God — children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
As The Message has it, “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighbourhood.”
This portion of the prologue to John’s Gospel is a slip of Scripture that I return to again and again, largely on account of those words. There’s a word theologians use when they talk about it:
Incarnation.
Advent is closing, this is why we’re here.
I had thought about a lengthy post on this one, but I’ve decided to leave it at this: God became man, with all the mess and the fuss and the need that comes with the territory. If you think about it too much, the implications can leave you dumb. So keep it simple: Immanuel — God with us.
Tomorrow the celebration of that birth is upon us. Merry Christmas all.
I had loads of stuff for this one, but I’ve narrowed it down and made sure to include a few (questionably) seasonal items. Enjoy.
Continuing my return to the albums that have shaped my listening over the years (and this is a series that could run and run), I’ve grabbed two albums with something in common: both are live albums, and each was the album that drew me in to the rest of the band’s music — maybe not the usual way it goes.
First of the two is Hell Freezes Over, by The Eagles, titled with a cute reference to the band’s assertion that they would play together again “when hell freezes over.” :-/ The disc is a recording, for MTV, of the reunion gig 14 years after they disbanded in 1980, with four new studio tracks making up the numbers.
The Eagles made their name with an easy-going kind of country rock, and that’s the dominant style on this disc. Even the songs from their later, harder days maintain the easy vibe.
Standout moments are the acoustic duelling of “Hotel California”, an epic “The Last Resort” and a plaintive yet hopeful “Desperado”. Few of the arrangements are very different from the studio versions in the back catalogue, but there’s something in the delivery that feels a little more mellow, a little more grown-up and weary. All this combined makes Hell Freezes Over my favourite Eagles record and one I’m glad to have dug out again. I’m still listening to it.
Like VM, I have a tendency towards what different folks will call sci-fi, SF, SF&F, or even the slightly pretentious speculative fiction. I’ve also recently been convinced by audiobooks. When I saw and heard METAtropolis plugged in various places, I was never going to be able to resist, especially when I managed to grab it on sale for a mere four quid.
Five SF authors, none of whom I’ve read before but most of whom I had at least heard of, collaborated to dream up a near-future world where the concept of city has evolved into something essentially different but still recognisable; they each then wrote a novella set in this world.
The five stories are different and distinctive. All are good, with the second and fourth counting as great: Tobias Buckell’s “Stochasti-city” and John Scalzi’s “Utere Nihil Non Extra Quiritationem Suis”.
The stories explore some obvious themes for the near-future setting: environmentalism, the tension between micro-economics and global corporations, the impact and the lack of impact of technology, the clash between capitalism, socialism and altruism.
Most interesting are the ways the stories explore human community in a future where nationality and ethnicity appear to have become completely irrelevant: a massive environmentalist commune aspiring to true anarchy; a closed city-state, sharing open borders with similar cities around the world, where there is no currency and where your citizenship depends on your willingness to contribute; an invisible network of all kinds of people, sharing resources on the strength of a shared commitment; layered, technologically-enabled alternative ‘realities’ where individuals claim citizenship of countries that don’t even exist in the physical world. Some of the communities formed are pragmatic and temporary, some are formed of necessity and some are based around an ideal. All are fascinating and all are completely plausible.
Some of the best SF has a philosophical component, where imagination offers the freedom to explore ideas and ask questions that remain surprisingly relevant and immediate. I know the label of sci-fi will put many off, but this collection is interesting, thought-provoking and very accessible — why not give it a go?
